The evergreen song playing
On the television tells me
Time is running out for me
As well as for my peers,
An hourglass metaphor
Has survived the coming
Of watches and clocks
Once living near rail tracks
The passing trains marked
The express passage of time
But my train was yet to arrive;
This ancient tree is in no hurry
Its seasons arrive and leave leisurely
When the gentle breeze ruffles it
It dances in quiet pleasure
When the monsoon wind seizes it
It fights with spirit, doesn't fall;
When we walk around the temple city
We do not know how many layers
Of time we walk on, what buried secrets
Lie under our feet, trapped like genies ----
It's time to say goodnight, not goodbye.
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